


Killing Me Softly

by Leydhawk



Category: Glee, Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempted Assault, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Glee Season 4, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, New York City, Not A Happy Ending, Oneshot, Oral Sex, Romance, Top!Sam, Unlikely Pairing, Violence, bottom!Kurt, fudged timelines, not a songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4931635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leydhawk/pseuds/Leydhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam hears Kurt sing & rescues him from gay-bashing attackers. Can one night of comfort make any difference to Sam's despair after Dean's death? Set during SPN episode Mystery Spot, timeline fudged so Kurt is a freshman in college. Kurt and Blaine are broken up. NOT a songfic & NOT a happy ending.  Give it a try, huh? Probably don't need to know either show to enjoy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killing Me Softly

Killing Me Softly

Sam was devastated. Dean was actually dead. After living the same Tuesday over and over, trapped in an endless time loop where the reset was seeing his brother die, the Trickster had finally let time advance to Wednesday only to have Sam deal with Dean's senseless murder by a desperate junkie. While Sam had been in the midst of the Groundhog Day nightmare, he'd dreaded the reset, but holding Dean while he died, Sam had actually prayed for it.

To no avail.

He'd buried Dean instead of burning his body, in the hopes of trying to find a way to resurrect him, but all efforts there failed in the weeks following. Sam sought solace in bottles of whiskey and hunting monsters with a brutal fury.

On one such hunt, nearly two months after Dean's death, Sam followed a werewolf into New York City and finished the beast off with the standard silver bullet. In a city that large and with a crime rate as high as it had, for once, Sam wasn't in a rush to get out of any possible search for him. He wandered a bit after dinner one night, finding vague stirrings of enjoyment as he walked through an art gallery. But with any emotion came recognition of what was missing from his life, and Sam headed straight into the next bar he saw, looking for liquid oblivion.

Not caring what sort of establishment it was, Sam made directly for the bar but was aware enough of his stature and the attention it could draw (everything from flirting to guys trying to impress someone by picking a fight with the biggest guy there) to choose the darkest spot and hunch down. He ordered three doubles and started in with that. His size, coupled with the tolerance he'd been building made it an expensive proposition to get hammered. But he'd swiped the werewolf's wallet to make it look like a mugging gone wrong, so the evening's libations were on the dead monster's tab.

The buzz started to take the razor edge of sober reality away, and Sam became paradoxically more aware of his environment. It was karaoke night, and he groaned inwardly, turning to look at what kind of crowd he was in.

Shit. _Young_. His age or younger, and he wondered if he was close to the campus of one of the schools. He felt a million years older than these bright eyed children. He signaled for another double.

The singers weren't half bad, and his cocked eyebrow at the bartender got him more information about the kids singing.

"They're mostly performing arts majors. They practice here on karaoke night. I have to stock up on Zima and wine coolers for them, though," Sam was informed as he took his next drink. He nodded. That fit with the very stylish clothes he was seeing, mixed with a few odd period outfits; one girl looked like she belonged at a Renaissance Fair, and another wore a 20's flapper dress.

A group of guys came through the door, rowdy, pushing each other and yelling, and they were shushed by a few of the tables at the back. The young woman singing was belting out We Are Family, and the crowd was on its feet singing along.

"Jesus, Max, you bring us to a gay bar, dude?" One of the rowdies asked another.

"Nah, man, the stupid singing is almost done, and the beer special is cheapest around for blocks," the response came. They started ordering their drinks, keeping the bartender busy.

The next person's song was called and applause broke out. Apparently this guy was known to be entertaining. Sam turned to watch. On the tall side compared to his friends, and slender, with luminously pale skin that made him look like an angel under the stage lights, the only word that came to mind to describe him was beautiful.

Sam was surprised to hear the familiar chords of Black Sabbath's Over and Over begin. A murmur went through the crowd, and it was obviously different than what he normally sang.

"Is that faggot gonna try to sing like Ozzy? That's fucking stupid!" One of the new arrivals said to his group. Sam tensed for trouble, but the attention of the rest of the bar was raptly focused on the ethereal figure on the stage.

In the bright lights, the young man stood still, his eyes closed, as the guitar riffs finally wound down to the vocals. His eyelids rose, and even from the back of the room, Sam could see they were large, crystal blue, and expressive. But what absolutely stunned Sam was his _voice_. High: way higher than any other grown man Sam had ever heard. He sounded like a woman, and Sam scanned down the willowy body to confirm in his mind that this was a man. Narrow hips, with an obvious but not overt bulge at his groin confirmed it, but the pure sound soon carried Sam's mind away from such practical thoughts.

The words were dark and brooding but this boy made them positively heartbreaking. And the chorus that matched the title sent a shiver through Sam. It resonated as the guitar took over again, sending Sam back to that Tuesday, lived hundreds of times, but now looked back on with desperate fondness as the last chance he'd had to spend time with his brother.

"Fuck, that's a chick in a dude's clothes- I bet ya! I bet ya fifty bucks, man!"

"Yer on! He's a dude, I heard him before."

"I want in! I say he's got no balls, that's how they keep a dude's voice so high," a third insisted.

Sam started to turn to confront them but halted as if frozen when the next verse began. He felt tears filling his eyes and he couldn't move. God, it was just amazing! The pure tones of that voice were sending chills through him. It was like the boy was singing Sam's pain, Sam's utter desolation and hopelessness. He never wanted it to end because it felt like for the first time ever, someone else could feel what he was feeling. The solidarity of that created a bond between him and the singer, even if just for the length of the song.

The five double shots of whiskey were finally affecting him, and Sam swayed a little as he watched the young man do the same during the next guitar interlude. His heart hurt, his chest tight. Painfully beautiful, he thought. This boy was just agonizingly lovely. It had been early in his college years, before he met Jessica that he'd slept with a few guys, but that look of soft, pale skin and delicate features had always attracted him. He wanted to wrap that type of man up in his arms and hold him forever.

The song ended eventually, but Sam was in a fog. He hadn't felt anything but the rage and pain and desire for vengeance for so long that it took time for the desire and appreciation he was feeling to come to his awareness. He looked around and his stomach clenched when he didn't see the loud bigots or the gorgeous boy anywhere. He whirled to the bartender.

"Where'd the assholes go?" He asked quickly.

"Left."

Sam tossed all the cash from the werewolf's wallet on the bar and made straight for the door. Outside he scanned the area and tried to listen over the din of the city. He heard a feminine sounding shout and deduced that the high voiced singer might sound like that. He took off toward it.

~~~SPG~~~

Sam ran around the corner and down an alley toward the sound of insults and that high male voice yelling so loudly that Sam was somewhat surprised no one else had come to help.

"-just wanna see your pretty little pussy-"

"You will not touch me again you fucking Neanderthal! I will tear your cauliflower ears right off and gouge out your beady little rat eyes! I- no! NO!"

Sam came around a dumpster to find two of the men holding the boy's upper body while one had his hands full with a long leg as it kicked out repeatedly. A fourth had pinned his other leg under a beefy arm and was wrenching at the waistband of the tight jeans. He'd gotten them unfastened and had his hand inside the fly. The young victim went wild, screaming piercingly and wriggling and flailing so hard the men holding his upper body nearly dropped him.

"Told ya it wasn't a sock down the-"

The man with his hand down the boy's pants was the first to be flung bodily away from him. He hit the far wall so hard he slumped silently to the ground, leaving a heavy red stain on the bricks. One who had been trying to get ahold of his arms again tried to run past the hulking figure who'd very possibly just killed his friend. Sam's leg lashed out and his boot connected with his knee. It made a sickening sound as it bent completely the wrong way and the thug fell screaming. The last two went down easy as Sam grabbed one, dislocating his shoulder and throwing him on top of the first, and merely punching the other hard enough his head bounced against the brick behind him and he wobbled and fell. Sam reached for the boy and picked him up in his arms, then strode back toward the street.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my-"

A shot cracked and Sam caught the impact in his arm, staggering him and making him drop the young man's legs. He started to turn to go back, but the boy grabbed him and dragged him out to the street and around the corner. Sam was so shocked he followed, then moved as if he was going try to return only to feel a stinging slap to his face.

"We've got to get out of here! He has a gun you idiot! Come _on_!" The young man was far stronger than Sam would have expected, and the fiery determination convinced him that it would simply be better to just go along. His arm started to hurt and he clamped his other hand on the wound and squeezed.

"You got somewhere I can clean up?" Sam asked as he allowed himself to be dragged down the street, looking at the young man now that he was close enough to really see him.

"Yes! Around the corner and two blocks down. Can you make it?" The tone was impatient but the look the boy gave Sam was full of real concern. His eyes were even more exquisite up close and Sam was enthralled. The previously pale skin was bright pink, but Sam let his gaze travel across the smooth surface of his cheeks, admiring the pert nose and full lips. Yes, beautiful was the right word.

"Uh-huh."

They made it inside the converted warehouse and Sam frowned in sympathy as the young man leaned his face against the door after locking it up tight. He was shaking, but Sam watched as he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. He turned to Sam with a calm, almost serene expression. If Sam hadn't known what he'd just been through he might have been fooled, the mask was that good, but Sam had been there and instead he nodded slowly.

"What's your name?" Sam asked quietly.

"Kurt."

"I'm Sam."

"Great. With introductions out of the way, can we look at your wound, please?"

Sam was surprised by Kurt's snarkiness. He was pretty sure he'd only been grazed, and not very badly at that. It wasn't bleeding anymore, but Sam knew it would make a mess when he tended it. Unfortunately, it was his right bicep, so he was going to need help if it required stitches.

"Where's the bathroom?"

Kurt insisted on helping Sam get his shirt off and stopped and stared at the muscles of Sam's chest and stomach, his jaw literally dropping open. "Are you a firefighter? You look an awful lot like Mr October... But he didn't have a tattoo..."

Sam's hiss of pain as he tried to peel the sleeve from his wound snapped Kurt's attention back to being helpful.

"Wait, we should soak it off or it will break open," Kurt said. He grabbed a clean towel and wet it, then held it against Sam's arm. They stood silently looking at each other, waiting for the water to make the cleanup process easier. "I really need to thank you, Sam. I think you may have saved my life. At the very least you saved me from..." He shuddered and Sam saw the horror of what _had_ been done to Kurt start to rear up inside him. Sam put his left hand on Kurt's waist.

"You're safe now, Kurt. And you're gonna learn to be more careful. This is fucking New York City, kid. You don't go walking around alone at night, okay?"

Anger made Kurt's chin rise and his eyes narrowed. "I usually walk home from there with my roommate, but she's visiting her dads." He pursed his lips as his jaw set stubbornly. "And I am not a kid. I'm am an adult, Sam, just like you."

Sam shook his head, the reality of his life settling on his shoulders and apparently showing in his expression. He had no idea that his eyes revealed the bottomless despair he felt over the loss of his brother.

"Oh!" Kurt exclaimed softly, covering his mouth with his fingers. "I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam couldn't speak, he just stared into the younger man's eyes, drinking in the compassion radiating from him. There had been no comfort for him since Dean's death, no solace. Even this relative stranger who had no idea what Sam had been through showing him kindness in gratitude for being saved was more than he'd had, and he soaked it in like a desert absorbed rain.

Kurt moved his fingers from his own lips to Sam's, brushing them lightly before he rested his palm against the taller man's cheek. Sam tentatively turned his face into the gesture, and Kurt smiled again, just a little, stroking the cheek in his hand.

"Kurt..."

"Yes, Sam?"

"Um, the fabric isn't sticking anymore."

"Oh. Of course."

They removed the last of Sam's shirt from his wound. Relieved, Sam could see he didn't need stitches. "You got any alcohol?"

"How about peroxide? It hurts less," Kurt asked. He retrieved then held up a brown bottle. Tears unexpectedly prickled Sam's eyes. Who had been the last person who cared how much pain he suffered? Jess, he thought, when he'd gotten sunburnt and she'd carefully slathered him with aloe and brought him Tylenol. Why did everyone who made his life better have to die? He nodded about the choice of disinfectant, unable to speak.

Kurt poured the liquid over the wound and while it did sting, it wasn't the searing pain of whiskey or rubbing alcohol. The young man delicately daubed the wound clean with cotton balls, then used a q-tip to apply some antibacterial cream before he put a row of five band-aides over it.

"Shall I get you a cookie now? My dad always did that if I was good while he bandaged me," Kurt said, smiling slyly.

Embarrassingly, Sam's stomach growled at the suggestion of food. He chuckled when he recalled he hadn't eaten since... The previous day sometime. He'd had coffee on the road, but no food.

Giggling, Kurt pulled him by the hand out to the kitchen. He made a sandwich and set it in front of the other man. Sam ducked his head in thanks and ate it. Kurt made coffee while the tall man silently consumed the food, trying to keep himself busy and giving himself a chance to think.

There was something wretched and haunted in the older man's eyes. Kurt had never seen someone fight the way he had, with cold capability and yet viciousness, too. He was only certain that one of his attackers had survived; not that he really cared. His hands shook when his memory supplied the feeling of being held helplessly as his pants were unfastened and a rough hand had groped him. He suddenly dropped the scoop from the coffee onto the counter and leaned over the sink and retched.

Sam was next to him in an instant. Strong arms held him and a low voice reassured him. "It's okay, Kurt. You're safe now. You're okay, honey. You're safe, Kurt. It's okay. You're okay."

Kurt ran water and blotted his face, then swished his mouth free from the sour taste. He straightened up and looked up at Sam, embarrassed. But the tall man just put his arms around Kurt and held him. Leaning into the solid muscle of Sam's bare chest quickly shifted his mind to another direction.

"I don't think any of them were in any shape to follow us, but... If you don't have anywhere you have to be tonight, would you please stay with me?"

Sam couldn't speak. He just nodded, and Kurt looked up and saw, then took Sam's hand and led him to the sofa. Sam sat down and Kurt folded himself up into the space at his side. Without hesitation, Sam put his arms around the young man again, and Kurt snuggled close against him.

Kurt knew it would be best to deal with his reaction to the attack while he felt safe, so he let his mind return to what had happened. He'd stayed defiant, refusing to submit to the taunts wanting him to settle a bet about whether he was a girl, a boy, or a castrato. Once they had pinned him, though, and that repulsive monster had gotten his hand inside his pants and grabbed him so intimately, Kurt had panicked. He shuddered, feeling cold, and he let a few tears creep free. Sam held him closer, running his big hands up and down Kurt's back, occasionally murmuring reassurances.

Feeling safer than he ever had anywhere but with his father, Kurt settled and his mood shifted slowly as he sniffled and caught the masculine scent of Sam's body. He was pressed against the man's incredible, naked chest. And Sam was undoubtedly a _man_ , not a boy.

Kurt made a decision, unsure if it was lust or a reaction to what could have happened or gratitude. He wanted Sam. His breath quickened and he considered what he should do.

Sam held him, soothing him, ashamed at how much he was enjoying just that. But when Kurt drew back, Sam let him go, trying not to sigh in his reluctance.

But Kurt didn't go far; just far enough to turn his head to face Sam and angle himself so he was in the perfect position for a kiss.

"Kurt-" Sam choked. He wanted this young man. Wanted to keep holding him, and wanted so much more, too. Those big blue eyes glittered in the low light, and a tiny smile curved his lush lips. Kurt moved his hand up and pulled Sam's head down, initiating the kiss Sam wanted so badly. Sam's arms tightened around the slim frame and he gave himself over to the embrace.

Kurt opened himself to the kiss, expecting Sam to take over, but the older man kept it simple, just moving his lips lightly, sliding them on Kurt's. Just that was making Kurt's heart pound and his head swim, but he wanted more. He parted his lips and pressed his tongue against the line of Sam's and felt a heady power as a tremor cascaded through the heavily muscled frame and the lips opened for him.

Kurt's face grew hot as he pushed further, exploring the flavor and velvet texture of Sam's mouth. He moved, wanting a better angle, and he straddled Sam's legs, feeling the hard lump of the bigger man's erection through their clothes. He ground his hips down and Sam gasped, sucking the air out of Kurt.

All of Sam's hesitation vaporized in the heat of their bodies pressing together and Kurt's insistent kiss. He'd been unsure if he was reading the boy- the _man_ \- wrong, if he would be taking advantage of the situation in the same way Kurt's attackers might have done, but the wanton thrusting of Kurt's hips and his obvious arousal Sam could feel burned his uncertainty away.

Kurt moaned as Sam wrapped his arms around him and pulled him tighter against his chest. Their kissing deepened and their tongues dueled for supremacy, Kurt unwilling to back down. He moved his hands up into Sam's long hair and tightened both fists, holding him still while he plundered the older man's mouth triumphantly.

Letting Kurt take over the kiss, Sam switched to trying to get to the younger man's skin. He pulled the tails of his shirt out only to find a t-shirt beneath. He tugged that free as well, then sensuously ran his hands, spread wide, underneath and up Kurt's back, reveling in the soft skin and wiry muscles beneath.

They parted long enough for Sam to strip both shirts over Kurt's head and he dropped it on the couch beside them, forcing the young man to release his grip on Sam's hair. Kurt's lips were puffy from the kissing, his pupils blown wide, and he was even more beautiful to Sam, who just stared at him.

Kurt was panting slightly, his skin flushed, and damp. He looked back at Sam for a long moment, seeing the dark sadness in the older man's forest green eyes was lessened by the heat Kurt read there. His own face flared even hotter and he felt lightheaded as he realized how much power he held over this big, strong man. He slid one hand down and flicked his fingertip over one nipple. It hardened and he pinched it lightly. Sam's eyelids slid half closed and his strong hands went to Kurt's hips, holding him tight as he rolled his own up to gain friction on his cock.

"Oh!" Kurt gasped, arching his back, his head lolling at the sensation.

Sam dropped his head forward and sought out one of Kurt's nipples with his lips, kissing it, then licking it and breathing across the wet nub before closing on it and sucking. His eyes roamed over the acres of luminous skin and he wondered if it was a situation like this where the sheen of a light sweat on pale skin shimmering in the low light might have given the author of Twilight the idea for sparkling vampires. The light played over Kurt's chest as he gasped in arousal.

"Sam..." Kurt's voice was a breathy moan that drove Sam wild. He groaned in response, giving another hip roll and sucking harder, shifting his hands to Kurt's ass. God! What a perfect double handful of firm muscle. Sam's eyes crossed at the thought of how it would feel to have that ass milking his cock... But he didn't know if Kurt was a bottom and still wasn't completely beyond stopping if the younger man decided he didn't want to have sex. Maybe he'd get to suck him off... Oh, that thought alone made him throb. Hot, salty cock in his mouth... Sam wondered if he could still deep throat; that had taken practice.

A firm squeeze on his nipple and his name being called out louder brought Sam back to the dizzyingly hot present moment. He looked up at Kurt.

"Bed... Please... These fucking skinny jeans are _killing_ me," Kurt said breathlessly. Sam grinned and smoothly stood, lifting Kurt who squawked but clung to him. "Oh my god, Sam... You're so strong," Kurt said, making Sam chuckle at the obvious statement.

Seeing Sam hesitate as his eyes flicked around the big warehouse space, Kurt nodded toward his curtained off bedroom and Sam was there in just a few long strides.

Kurt reached out and pushed at the fabric so Sam could duck past.

Sam's sole focus was on the bed with its pretty linens and pillows. He bent and kissed Kurt before releasing him, setting him on the bed and quickly dropping his hands to remove the younger man's jeans. He stopped when he realized that might remind Kurt of the attack and his eyes darted up to search his face for sign of distress.

Kurt shook his head and smiled softly, guiding Sam's hands back to his fly. Sam flashed a quick smile in return and unbuttoned and drew the zipper down over the bulge while watching Kurt's expression. His lips parted and he sighed at the release from the pressure and Sam's body twitched in response. God, he was so fucking sexy...

Sam tried to push the denim off Kurt's hips but found they were so tight he couldn't do it easily.

"Damn, these are a bitch," Sam muttered.

"But they look hot," Kurt replied coyly.

Sam stopped and looked into Kurt's eyes earnestly. "Kurt, you are _beautiful_. You could wear _anything_ and look like the most incredibly sexy angel that ever existed," he said. Kurt blushed.

"That must make you a silver-tongued devil," Kurt replied pertly. Sam laughed, and Kurt quickly wiggled out of his jeans, unzipping his boots and taking those and his socks off as well.

"A thong?!" Sam asked incredulously, staring at the blue underwear that couldn't contain Kurt's erection, the pink head peeking out from the top of the silky material.

"You think boxers or briefs wouldn't bunch up and strangle my junk in those jeans?" Kurt asked bluntly. Sam shrugged, never having considered such things before, but eyes glued to the bulging fabric and the visible curve of Kurt's ass below.

Kurt spread his legs and bent his knees, raising his hips so Sam could get a better look. The big man's mouth opened and his eyes widened and Kurt felt another rush of power.

" _Fuck_..." Sam's voice came out a strangled groan. He suddenly looked up at Kurt. "I want you, Kurt. I want to suck you and make you come and then I _really_ want to feel your tight body spread around me. I want to touch every part of you, honey, but I'll only do what you want me to. What do you want me to do?"

Kurt was speechless. It was so incredibly hot to have Sam say so blatantly what he wanted, and so sweet and kind that he was giving Kurt full control as well. He felt like he was on fire from the inside, and he was sure that he'd never felt so desirable.

"Yes..." He breathed. "Yes, all of it..."

Sam started to climb onto the bed.

"But-"

Sam froze.

"Safely. I have condoms, and lube. Just a sec," Kurt said, and quickly gathered them, leaving the partial tube and strip of condoms on the bed beside him. Sam smiled and nodded, settling on top of the smaller man.

"I'd like to suck you off without one, if that's okay," Sam whispered. Kurt's eyes widened. "There's very little risk in that. I just... I want to taste you. It's been a long time since I've been with a guy. With anyone, really."

Kurt blinked and nodded. It wasn't truly safe, but it wasn't like he was going to let Sam bareback when he... Oh, _ohmygod_... It hit him that he was about to have sex for the first time with someone other than Blaine.

Sam watched and saw a moment of panic from Kurt. He immediately sat back. He was still kneeling between the boy's legs, but at least he wasn't rutting on top of him like a sex-crazed beast. He frowned and his hopes tanked. What the fuck was he doing with this kid, anyway? The poor guy was probably feeling obligated or something and-

Kurt was suddenly up on his knees, too, with his arms around Sam, kissing him, humping against his thigh.

"Sam," he gasped between kisses. "Oh, Sam, god! _Yes_ , I want you... I want you so much..."

Sam's head was spinning. He firmly grasped Kurt's shoulders and held him away. "Are you sure? Jesus, you're so young, Kurt. I shouldn't-"

"I'm a grown man. I'm not a virgin, Sam," Kurt snapped. Then he softened. "How old were you when you started sleeping with men?"

"Nineteen."

Kurt smiled. "So you have no room to judge me."

"I'm not judging you! I just-"

"Shh," Kurt said, putting a finger on Sam's lips. "No more discussion. I want you. You want me. That's all that needs saying."

They looked at each other for a long moment, then a glint lit Kurt's eyes and he slid the tip of his finger down Sam's top lip and pressed into his mouth. Sam shuddered and sucked eagerly on the digit, caressing it with his tongue. Kurt closed his eyes at the sensation, anticipating how it was going to feel when Sam repeated the tongue swirling and suction on his erection. He moaned.

Smiling around the finger, Sam insistently pushed Kurt back on the bed. The younger man withdrew his hands, both of them curled up by his shoulders in an unconscious gesture of surrender. Sam kissed him sensuously and Kurt lightly stroked his arms, enjoying the feel of his sleek muscles. Moving down to Kurt's slender neck, Sam dragged his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin and Kurt's fingers grabbed Sam's forearms. Nibbling across his collarbone, Sam kissed his shoulder and then ran his tongue down the crease below and buried his nose under Kurt's arm, smelling deeply. _Oh, yeah._ It was something he recalled appreciating from college: the undeniably male scent and taste of a hairy underarm. Even someone as fastidious as Kurt seemed to be had the underlying natural musk and pheromones under the light, woody smell of deodorant and body wash. Sam groaned brokenly and rooted around, snuffling and licking. Kurt twitched and gasped, reminded of Brittany telling him she liked it when her partner kissed her armpit and understanding for the first time. It was a sensitive spot, and Sam's obvious enjoyment was a huge turn on.

Taking himself further down Kurt's slender body, Sam ran one hand down the man's arm, feeling the hard muscles under the smooth skin as well as the soft hair of his forearm, because even though it was light and nearly invisible, Kurt _had_ body hair. It was softer and finer than Sam's but there was much more than a woman normally had. He twined his fingers with Kurt's while his lips discovered the little bit of chest hair the young man had, too, then he found the hardened light brown flesh of his nipple and latched on. Kurt's hand tightened on his until Sam felt his middle finger pop. That one had been dislocated several times and often cracked and popped anyway, but it made Sam aware even more of the strength belied by Kurt's thin frame. He sucked hungrily and felt Kurt's hips bucking beneath him.

"Sam... Oh..." Kurt gasped.

Shifting down, Sam traced the muscles of Kurt's chest and abdomen, stopping to dip his tongue in his navel, receiving a thrust that hit the base of his throat as Kurt's hips bucked again. When he finally kissed his way along the trail of hair below, Sam dropped a single, feather-light peck on the shining wet head of Kurt's cock before he slipped his hands under Kurt, palming his ass and lifting him slightly while he took the waistband of his ridiculously tiny underwear in his teeth and pulled them down.

Kurt stared, unable to conceive of how insanely sexy it was to have Sam remove his thong _with his teeth_. He felt like he was being held up on a platter made of Sam's palms on his ass, and he couldn't help the small scream that escaped his lips when Sam deftly tucked his underwear below his balls and set about sucking them.

"Fuck!" Kurt swore. Sam had his whole scrotum in his mouth and his tongue was gliding back and forth between each ball, playing with the skin. And suddenly those big hands weren't just holding his ass up, they were spreading his cheeks and the fingers were wiggling into the crevice.

Sam wanted to devour Kurt. He wetly let one testis slide out of his mouth and focused on the other, playing with a textured bit of skin on the underside while his finger moved past the light hair to the tight pucker of flesh at the core of him. He began rhythmically pressing and releasing, and he opened his eyes and watched Kurt's erection bounce on his stomach as he reacted.

Kurt was nearly sobbing in pleasure, his head whipping back and forth, fingers clawing at the duvet. When his ball slipped from Sam's mouth and moist lips dragged up the underside of his cock, Kurt jerked and nearly humped his ass right out of Sam's grasp. But he arced and froze in rigid, trembling ecstasy when Sam enveloped him to the root in one perfect, hot, wet instant, a long gasp stealing any possibility of making a further sound.

Sam didn't gag, and having Kurt's neatly trimmed pubes tickling his nose while the long cock was partway down his throat so that when he swallowed it milked the head was just as satisfying as he remembered it being. Better even, listening to the silence of Kurt's reaction, feeling the tension throughout his entire body, even the firm glutes in his hands turning rock hard.

Needing air, Sam finally pulled back, running his tongue around Kurt's glans and licking the copious pre-come from his head.

"Sonofabitch! Jesus Christ, Sam! Oh! Ah! Aiiieee!" Kurt's voice ran up the scale as Sam sucked him back down, staying in a long, high wail. He had some serious lung capacity, Sam thought, then set about finding the best technique to get Kurt to come.

When that amazingly long breath finally ran out, Kurt's body sagged from its electrified bow and shudders wracked him and he sobbed unabashedly. Sam got some of the saliva he was drooling over Kurt's sack onto his fingers and worked one back to his hole while he maintained a steady bobbing.

Breaching the tight sphincter up to his second knuckle sent Kurt over the edge. Sam felt the cock in his mouth swell, the ring on his finger tightened impossibly, and his mouth was flooded with salty, bleachy come.

"Oh! Yes! Sam! God! SAM!" Kurt shouted, his entire body stretched tight like a guitar string, then the chord was struck and he howled wordlessly as his body jerked with each pulse as he came, stars exploding behind his tightly shut eyes.

Sam let Kurt's orgasmic spasms fuck his face as the hot flood hit his throat and filled his mouth. The glorious sound of Kurt's amazing voice, loud in his climax, brought tears to his eyes.

Reluctantly, Sam released the softening member, not wanting to cause Kurt discomfort as he grew oversensitive. Swallowing, Sam closed his eyes to focus more directly to try to memorize the taste and sensation of the moment. Then he withdrew his finger and let Kurt's body down onto the bed while he moved up to lay beside him.

The younger man was a mess. His hair was wild, tears streaked his face, and his normally white skin was blotchy and red. His mouth hung slack as his shuddering breaths slowed and he looked at Sam. When his brain engaged, he simply stared in wonderment.

"Sam... I've never experienced anything like that before," he said in a high, breathy voice. Sam's response was a warm smile. "Thank you."

"Thanks for letting me," Sam replied softly. The younger man rolled to face Sam but buried himself against Sam's chest, snuggling close. Sam sighed as he wrapped his arms around Kurt. It felt so good to be close to someone like this. The rush of endorphins soothed him better than the alcohol had been doing, and he felt like maybe he'd sleep later on without the nightmares born from the helpless anger and loneliness from losing his brother. Later on _after_ he got to come, he thought wryly, and shifted so that the lump in his jeans bumped into Kurt's body.

The young man sat up immediately, wiping the last of his tears away. "Oh, jeez, we have to get you out of your jeans, Sam! That can't be comfortable. And you wore your boots this whole time?" Kurt's nose wrinkled and he set about rectifying the oversight. His deft fingers untied the double knots of his shoelaces quickly and he drew Sam's boots off, dropping them, then peeled his socks off, too.

Watching the beautiful, naked creature set about stripping him made something twist in Sam, and tears filled his eyes. No one had taken care of him since Dean died; not in any significant way. He remembered many times after a hunt he'd dropped in exhaustion onto one of the motel beds and Dean had pulled his boots and socks off for him, usually cussing about the double knots and snarking about foot rot. But he'd always known that Sam slept better with bare feet.

When Kurt moved back up beside him, he glanced at Sam's face as he reached for his belt and he stopped when he saw the sorrowful expression on his face.

"Sam? Did I do something wrong?" Kurt asked with a tremor in his voice. Sam shook his head, unable to speak.

Laying back down, Kurt snaked one arm under Sam's neck and drew him against his body, using the other hand to pet the big man's long hair. He started humming, Standing Outside the Fire, the song he remembered his mother sang to him to soothe him to sleep when he had nightmares as a little boy. He saved the song for when he really needed it, unlike most other music that he shared indiscriminately. He switched to softly singing the words and was warmed when Sam's arm slipped over his waist and he drew himself closer to Kurt.

After he sang the final lyrics, Kurt let the silence settle on them.

"That's you, isn't it? Living and loving and just embracing life like nothing bad could really happen," Sam asked quietly, referring to the song lyrics.

"I'm a unicorn."

"Huh?"

"Just something a friend told me."

It made Sam smile crookedly. "That mean you're horny?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, but they were sparkling with mirth. "State the obvious much?"

Sam smiled, then his face sobered. "Thank you for singing to me. That was beautiful, all slow and soft."

Stroking Sam's face, Kurt replied, explaining about the song having been his mother's lullaby for him, and how precious it was since she'd died when he was a child and he had few memories of her. It brought a lump to Sam's throat.

"Then I'm even more honored," Sam whispered. "I have no memory of my mother. She died when I was a baby. It was always just me and my dad and my br-brother," his voice broke. "Now I'm all alone, they're both gone."

"They're never gone, Sam. You remember them. Everything they taught you, every experience you shared, those are how they are still with you and always will be."

A faint smile curved Sam's lips. "How'd you get so wise so young?"

"Oh, I'm brilliant, didn't you know?" Kurt's reply was cocky, and Sam laughed in spite of himself. Then he pulled the slim man to him and kissed him soundly.

"Brilliant, talented, wise, sexy, handsome... Yeah, I think you're an angel, Kurt."

Kurt's laughter peeled through the air. He looked at Sam, grinning. Then he bit his lip and his expression turned devilish. "Shall I make your dreams come true, then?" He purred. Sam had never heard his voice so low and his skin prickled with goosebumps.

"I, um, I think you mean prayers. Don't angels answer-"

Kurt stopped Sam's words with his mouth, kissing him hard and plunging his tongue inside. Sam shuddered and tightened his arms around Kurt.

They rolled around, kissing, until Kurt worked his hands between them and got Sam's belt unfastened, then his jeans undone. He pushed Sam's underwear down and then wrapped his fingers around the thick shaft and stroked a few times. Part of Kurt's mind was frightened by the girth he encircled, but he had really enjoyed the aching burn the few times he'd been able to get Blaine to top, so he acknowledged to himself that he really wanted Sam to spread him wide and nail him good. It felt shameful and wicked to even think that, but in a deliciously exciting way. Already hard again, he moved so he could use both hands to draw them together and jerk them.

Sam had to tear his mouth away from Kurt's demanding kisses, gasping at the intense stimulation.

"Oh fuck, Kurt! Honey that's so _good_ ," he moaned. Kurt smiled, his eyes alight. "But... Oh, please, you gotta stop or we won't get to go any further..."

Kurt stopped the motion of his hands but looked a little confused. "Don't you want more than one?"

Sam laughed. "You're the teenager, not me. I might be up for another round later, but right now I want to come while I'm inside this tight, perfect ass." He cupped said body part and kneaded firmly, parting his cheeks and teasing him with the tip of one finger.

Kurt gave a sighing whimper. "Yes... Oh Sam, I want you. I just... Be careful, okay? I... It's been... And I didn't usually..."

"Shit, you're a _top_?"

Sam's incredulous tone made Kurt defensive. "No, not exactly. I like both but my boyfriend was definitely a bottom and-"

"Shh... I'm sorry. It's fine, honey. I'll be gentle. I'll get you all ready before I get to that. Really. I didn't mean to imply anything."

Kurt's concern eased and he kissed Sam lightly. Then he winked. "So get to it, then!"

Sam laughed.

It was almost an hour later, and Kurt had come twice more while Sam gradually worked his virgin-tight ass open, progressing slowly from one finger to two, until finally, three were working steadily in and out and Kurt was hard again and hoarse from moaning and crying out and shouting a couple of times.

"Please, Sam! I'm ready! I can't stand it anymore! I need you in me! Fill me up, make me _scream_..." Kurt was mumbling and growling but Sam was pretty sure he was right and he'd be able to take it now. His own balls ached with how hard he'd been for so long.

Trying to put a condom on with hands slick with lube was problematic, but Kurt heard the wrapper and Sam's low curse and eagerly plucked the package from the bigger man's slippery grip. He tore it open and licked his lips as he rolled it on, enjoying how Sam's breath caught and he trembled. Kurt kissed him and looked deep into his eyes for a moment before he turned around and got on all fours.

The perfect white mounds presented so invitingly were too much for Sam. He quickly added lube and then palmed each cheek and spread them, lining up by sight and feel. He paused right at the cusp.

"Okay, Kurt?"

"God, yes! Take me, Sam... Fill me up..." The whining moan gave Sam a shiver and he pressed in, stopping as soon as the head was in. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" Kurt's voice was high and breathy. When he felt a minute relaxing of the smaller man's body, he slowly pushed in, closing his eyes, unaware that he was whispering Kurt's name over and over like a prayer.

A pained gasp made Sam freeze again, struggling with his control. His animal instincts howled for him to ram inside the hot-tight-slick opening, but he staved the desire off and waited until Kurt moved, rocking toward him. He paused again when he was fully engulfed.

Kurt was focused as never before. His entire existence was wrapped around the hardness inside him. His body was stretched wide, pulsing with a warm mix of pain and pleasure, and it was utterly sublime.

"Move, Sam," he gasped. Sam slid back an inch or so, then just as carefully returned. Kurt groaned brokenly. "Ooohhh..." He slid his own body forward and then sank back. He did it again, and again, until Sam took the hint.

Moving his hands to Kurt's hips, Sam started fucking. He drove in hard with each thrust, and their voices competed, both sounding completely wrecked. Sam's spine curled with each in-stroke and Kurt's back arched, trying to take him deeper.

"Oh, please, Sam... More... Harder... Yes! Oh _god_..."

The completely wrecked sound of Kurt begging broke the metronomic rhythm. Sam sped up, calling out Kurt's name.

"Yes! Sam! Yes! More! Yes!" Kurt's voice rose and Sam threw his head back and humped hard.

"Oh, honey! Kurt! So good... Fuck, you feel so fucking good!"

Minutes passed, or was it centuries? Sam was getting closer, his thrusts more erratic, and Kurt finally realized he couldn't come in that position without something else, anyway. And not after three previous orgasms.

"Sam, please, we've gotta - _ngh_ \- change position. I want to come with you. Oh fuck, yeah... _Mmmph_!"

It took a few moments for his words to register. Sam's motion slowed, then he stopped. Gasping, sweating, he moved his shaking hand and held the condom as he pulled out.

"How... How do you want it?" Sam asked. He wasn't sure how he even formed a sentence.

"Lay down," Kurt ordered. He had always wanted to try riding a cock and had never had the chance. He moved to straddle Sam's ripped torso, but Sam stopped him, fumbling for something in the bedding.

"More lube," Sam explained. Kurt's head cocked. He'd never had sex last long enough to need extra lube before. He took the tube from Sam and added more before he climbed on top of the big man and reached to line up before he sank back down with a long sigh of pleasure. Raising up and lowering several times, Kurt realized he had total control and he arched and writhed until Sam's cock was rubbing him just right.

Watching Kurt find his sweet spot, his little teeth bared in a grimace of concentration, Sam was spellbound. When Kurt's ass clamped down, they both cried out wordlessly, and then Kurt started riding him in earnest. Putting his hands on Sam's shoulders as if to pin him down, Kurt fucked hard, grinding down, and the guttural grunts he made were wildly masculine, turning up the heat in Sam to a goddamn _inferno_.

"Kurt! Kurt! Kurt!" Sam shouted with each down thrust from the young man.

Kurt wanted to scream. As absolutely fucking amazing as this felt, he was right on the edge but could not get himself to tip over and come.

Sam sensed his frustration and abruptly took control. He sat up, his abdominal strength overpowering the press of Kurt's hands. Wrapping his arms around the lithe body, he lifted and turned until he was on top. Kurt instinctively raised his legs and spread them wide, his flexible dancer's body easily folding so Sam was flush against him, Kurt's cock sandwiched between their stomachs. With Sam's first plunging hip motion, Kurt screamed. The friction on his cock with the pressure and movement inside him were perfect. He was going to come any second.

Sam jackhammered madly, feeling how Kurt tensed and wanting to come when he did. The scream cut off and Kurt's hips jerked over and over, meeting Sam in synchronized counterpoint, then his body locked in a rictus of ecstasy and Sam roared with the sensation of Kurt's ass rippling, squeezing like a fist, tearing his own climax from him.

Sam's face was buried in the pillow beside Kurt's head, so he heard the hiccupping breath Kurt took, and the whimper as the final weakening pulses shook them both.

When Kurt's body relaxed finally, Sam raised his head. They were both glistening with sweat, so the kiss he gave the younger man was salty but incredibly heartfelt. They lay still, panting, catching their breath together, looking into each other's eyes.

The words 'I love you' almost slipped out of Kurt. Part of him understood the endorphin and oxytocin rush was responsible for the sentiment, and another part scoffed and reminded him that he didn't even know this man, but Kurt let the words play in his mind as he studied Sam's face.

Sam kissed Kurt again softly, then reached down to hold the condom while he pulled out. Taking care of disposal and cleanup was silent for them, but not uncomfortably so. More of an exhausted, satiated quiet, Sam thought lazily. He hesitated when they headed back to the bed. Kurt rolled his eyes and took his hand, pulling him with him onto the bed and under the covers. They twined seamlessly together and fell asleep quickly after a few sleepy kisses and murmurs of appreciation.

~~~SPG~~~

A text alert woke Sam. He looked around the unfamiliar space in the dim pre-dawn light and remembered the previous night. He turned his head to see Kurt asleep beside him. His gut twisted. The boy looked _12_ in his sleep! What the hell had he been thinking?! Then details floated to mind of moments when Kurt had seemed anything but childlike. He'd even displayed wisdom and a world-weariness that had echoed Sam's loss and pain. He shook his head mentally. Whether a mistake or not, last night was last night. It was time to go.

~~~SPG~~~

Sam was aware of how crazy his life was at times. He sat in the same bar, on the same day that he'd seen Kurt sing, for the second time. The months he'd lived after Dean's death had been erased, for everyone but him. He shook his head and sipped his beer.

Kurt wouldn't remember Sam saving him; or the passionate night they'd shared afterward, but since Sam knew that everything outside of his life was happening the same as it had the first time, he wasn't about to let the kind, gentle singer get attacked by rowdies tonight.

He'd arrived early, having taken out the werewolf with no fanfare since he'd known exactly what the creature was going to do. Shaking Dean had been harder to accomplish, but he'd done that, too. He sat at a table closer to the stage and was only on his second beer, determining to enjoy Kurt's haunting performance and stay sober enough to keep the young man in the bar however he needed to until the threat of the thugs had passed. He even had one of his FBI badges with him to try to convince Kurt to be more careful in the future as well.

A small voice in his mind suggested the possibility of establishing some kind of relationship with the boy, but Sam fatalistically knew that wouldn't be any way to keep him safe. His chest tightened a bit and a wistfulness had him picking at the label of his bottle as he sighed.

The students sang their songs, and Sam tried not to watch Kurt two tables over as he applauded and laughed with his friends. The young man's distinctly pitched voice made it easy for Sam to listen to him, though. It made Sam smile to hear him being unfailingly supportive of his companions. His wit was sharp but only used against anyone who criticized the other performers.

Sam was disturbed from the sweet sound of Kurt's laughter by the entrance of the noisy drunks into the bar behind them. He'd hoped that maybe by some butterfly effect they wouldn't show up, but was resigned now that they had arrived.

Kurt was next. Sam pulled his phone out, blushing a little in self-consciousness that he planned to record the boy singing. He pretended to fiddle with it but actually got it set up with the camera pointing directly at the microphone and braced it. His thumb hovered over the record button and hit it as soon as Kurt was called up.

But a jolt of shock ran through him when he heard not Black Sabbath's guitar chords begin but instead a twangy country sound. When Kurt began Standing Outside the Fire, Sam was totally flabbergasted. How had he changed the song? And to _that_ song? He'd told Sam it was intensely personal to him, so the hunter couldn't imagine him randomly coming up with it.

This version was full tempo and dance-worthy, of course. Kurt's friends called encouragement and sang along. Sam found himself stunned to immobility. He watched enraptured as the young man sang passionately, his voice glorious at full volume and sounding happy instead of almost plaintive as it had been that night together. His face was alight in the stage lights and he looked even more angelic than he had before. Beatific, Sam thought.

Sam was so lost in his thoughts and recollections that Kurt finished singing, took his bows, and was heading out the door when Sam became aware of his surroundings again.

"Kurt!" He bellowed, the entire establishment pausing as the young man turned to see who had shouted his name. A wolf whistle from one of the men Sam was there to protect Kurt from, followed by a loud laugh from his companions and a low twitter among the other patrons, and it broke the moment. Normal bar sounds resumed. Sam was on his feet, staring at Kurt, so Kurt slowly began winding through the tables back to Sam, a politely interested look on his face.

"Hello," Kurt said as he stopped and looked up at Sam, waiting. Caught in Kurt's gaze, Sam found that his voice had gone and his mind was totally blank. "I believe you were addressing me?"

Sam gave a single, jerky nod.

Kurt's expression shifted into a more genuine looking curiosity, and even a bit of compassionate understanding when Sam opened his mouth and nothing came out so he closed it again.

"Maybe we should sit down over there," Kurt nodded to one side. "Might be a little more private."

Sam nodded.

They sat at a table away from anyone else and Sam continued to stare, his mind beginning to supply him with vivid memories of Kurt's face, his voice, and his body.

"You watched us sing?"

Nod.

"So you came for the karaoke?"

Sam's head tilted, but he still gave a nod.

"But you didn't sing."

Sam laughed, and Kurt smiled.

"Why not?"

"I can't sing."

Kurt's smile grew as Sam finally broke free of his silence.

"Of course you can."

"Well, yeah, I'm physically able, but no one would wanna hear it. I can't find a note with both hands and a shovel."

Kurt chuckled at that. "Might be your problem right there. You don't need hands _or_ a shovel to sing."

Sam shrugged and shook his head, but he smiled. He still needed to keep Kurt in the bar for a while until the rowdy men at the back lost interest or got too drunk to be a threat.

"You, uh, you probably get this all the time but... Your voice is amazing," Sam said.

Kurt demurred, ducking his head and looking coquettish. Sam's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"So you enjoy music. That's why you were here tonight?"

"Sort of."

One of Kurt's eyebrows rose independently from the other and Sam vividly recalled running his pinky across it and making Kurt giggle. He cleared his throat, willing himself not to blush. Kurt's eyes narrowed.

"Why did you call my name?" Kurt asked blatantly.

"I, uh," Sam cleared his throat again. "I wanted to talk with you."

Kurt waited. Sam's mind ran through lie after lie; tale after tale that he could tell, but he found himself terribly reluctant to be dishonest with Kurt.

"Your... Your song selection. You don't come across as a country type. Why that song?" Sam finally said.

"Actually, it's strange. I never sing that song in public. It's...it's intensely personal. But I've had it stuck in my head for... I don't know... Weeks, I suppose," Kurt replied honestly, frowning a little. Then he refocused on Sam. "But I think you would have found the song I had planned to sing uncharacteristic as well." He cocked his head in challenge, and Sam smiled.

"I don't think I'll make the mistake of trying to predict you again."

Kurt seemed satisfied by that, and he made as if to stand, clasping the strap to his man bag in both hands.

"Wait!" Sam said, aware that the would-be attackers were keeping an eye on them. "I-uh-C-can I buy you a drink? A Coke or a sparkling water or something?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Please, I just... I want to talk with you a little more. Please?"

"Saratoga."

"What?"

"It's the sparkling water I prefer. They do have it here."

"Oh." Sam signaled the waitress. He ordered another beer and Kurt's water. He turned back to Kurt, seeing him duck his head to hide a smile. "What?"

"I guess that's so much for any hope you were near my age," Kurt shrugged.

Sam's demeanor changed. He relaxed and took a deep breath. He wasn't sure why, but knowing that Kurt had been hoping he was close to his age made him feel better.

"I'm Sam, by the way," he said. Kurt put his hand out to shake.

"Nice to meet you," Kurt replied. Sam found himself intrigued at the firm handshake. But he'd seen first hand that Kurt had many more sides than the effeminate facet he showed the world.

"So what song were you _going_ to sing?"

"Over and Over by Black Sabbath," Kurt replied, watching Sam's reaction.

Sam nodded thoughtfully, pretending to think about it while really remembering. "I bet you sound haunting when you sing that. Your voice is this blend of ethereal and... Really _present_ , I think. Like you're walking in two worlds."

Kurt was taken aback by that. He blushed lightly. "Thank you, Sam."

Sam's body responded to Kurt saying his name and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably, glad for the distraction when the server returned with their drinks.

They talked for a while, with Sam enjoying getting to know Kurt better but trying hard not to choke on the regret that filled him knowing this was the only time they'd have together. Kurt relaxed, feeling like this big, brooding man was somehow familiar and trusting him enough that their conversation got very personal very quickly.

"-how much I was going to miss my dad," Kurt said softly, and then grabbed a napkin and dabbed at his eyes. Sam reached out before he could stop himself and took Kurt's hand. They both gave a start and stared at each other.

Sam noticed that the bar had gotten quieter and surmised that the rough guys had grown bored and left. It was time to let Kurt go. He'd follow to be certain the younger man got home safe, but he needed to make himself say goodbye.

"I'm glad you have him, Kurt," Sam said. He squeezed Kurt's hand and then released his fingers reluctantly. He leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat. "I should let you get home. Thanks for talking with me, it was great. I kept you here late, can I pay for a taxi for you?"

Kurt looked like Sam had insulted him. "That's _it_?" He asked. "What was your agenda here tonight, Sam? Are you going to ask for my number? Anything?"

Sam swallowed hard. "Kurt, you're an amazing kid, I just-"

"What?! I'm _kid_ now? You have been panting after me since I took the stage."

"I'm sorry."

Kurt stood up with all the dignity of an indignant teenager putting on airs. He lifted his head and marched out of the bar. Sam closed his eyes, dying inside. He still needed to make sure Kurt got home okay.

But by the time he made it outside, he heard Kurt shouting and ran to help. The men were trying to hustle the young man into the same alley, and Sam charged up, yelling.

" _Back the fuck off_ , you goddamn animals!" He roared. All the drunks but one stumbled back from the aggressive advance of the intimidatingly large Sam and his fury. "Let go of him!"

"What'r ya gonna do?" The one who was still holding Kurt's arms sneered. Kurt backed up against the man and whirled, his knee coming up lightning fast and nailing the man in his groin, dropping him. He brushed at his jacket where he'd been held and walked away, continuing his 'storming out' posture. Sam almost laughed. Instead he followed Kurt, easily catching up with the shorter man's pace.

"Kurt, I'm sorry. I came here tonight to make sure you didn't get hurt. I really screwed up, and I'm sorry."

Kurt stopped walking and turned to him, his eyes alight with inner fire. Sam tried desperately not to react to how incredibly sexy it was.

"Sam, what on earth made you think I couldn't take care of myself?"

"S-someone I care about got hurt... Just l-like that," Sam said, stuttering a little over the misdirection.

Kurt scoffed and shook his head. "I am beginning to think that you are crazy. And I'm crazy for letting this feeling... Never mind." He sighed, composed himself visibly, then looked up at Sam with a schooled polite expression. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Sam. Thank you for caring if I got hurt or not. Good-bye."

Sam watched him walk away, slowly following up to the corner and sadly witnessing as the beautiful young man with his big heart and angelic voice disappeared into his apartment building two blocks down.

His shoulders slumped and he pulled his phone out of his pocket, pausing to swallow hard against the tightness in his throat when he saw the screen was still on the last frame of Kurt on stage. His angel.

He hit the number for Dean.

"I'm ready for you to pick me up. Let's get the hell outta this city."

~~~SPG~~~

_A/N I have to thank ToniMH for getting me into Glee, and for both her and FlyingPiglet for the beta, and the title! You both mentioned that song in your notes and I think it fit perfectly. I've taken a lot of inspiration from other writers, so thanks to ladyflowdi for some inspiring images from Three Times Two, even if I applied them outside NCIS. ;-)_


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